Crap In A Bag

Remember this: Someone has to pick up that crap.  

Yes, having peace and quiet is a good thing.

Yesterday, I went down to the river to sit in the shade and read an anthology of Ray Bradbury’s work. The breeze smelt of fishy river water. Eastern caterpillars fell off the trees to crawl across the expanse of my white soiled t-shirt.

It was a nice way to relax the tension in my neck muscles.

I was watching the water reflect off the oak tree I was sitting under. I heard some vehicles pull up and looked over to see a man and a blonde woman fishing from the bank. Another black truck pulls up with the cigarette smoking man and his friend getting out and throwing in a line.

I went back to reading a story of murder and a not-so-smart chick escaping a serial killer but comes back to find her lemonade where she left it.

I looked over at one abandoned camping area on the bank. Someone had vandalized the trees with red paint by putting letters and pictures on the trunks. Someone left a red hammock with a white teddy bear and cooler hanging in the trees. Cut up trees were piled up on a camp fire. You would think an idiot would know you have to cure cut oak a while for it to burn, otherwise it is too wet and hard-so that was a waste of cutting down some river trees. 

The blonde woman walks past my truck in search of a fishing spot on the other side of the river. She comes creeping back in a semi-disgusted weary way like she has just stepped in dog poop but can’t get it off her shoe-so the smell follows her everywhere.

She was telling me about the drunks on the other side of the boat ramp and how nasty they were. I didn’t go over there. I hoped they would leave. The blonde lady asked me was I not scared to be there. I told her other people were here so I didn’t see it a problem. She said she would be scared. I thought for her the idea of a clump of drunks down at the river could be capable of anything-along with the sober ones-all they need is the itch to do something bad.

I take it like this: If you don’t mess with a wild animal it won’t bite you. Some will seek you out just because of boredom and opportunity. The campers at the river insult wild animals with their antics. Mind you, some of the campers are not bad but a lot of them drive less than 25 minutes from their homes to trash the river area, leave it, and then go home to the squalor of their lives.

Here is the problem of the average nature-goer experiencing the “turn-off” of a potential interaction, directly or indirectly, with other not-so-savory nature-goers that make the landscape psychologically feel like a threat, or something to form an aversion to.

The blonde lady felt like she couldn’t say anything to the drunken people. It could be that she just didn’t want to go to the river to find that waiting on her and ruin her good time. 

This bids the question:

Who carries more weight in voicing a possible discretion on the part of another nature-goer, when that nature-goer is causing harm to a protected area where wildlife and the public can enjoy an experience-a good experience?

When there is no law authority present, is it an issue to say to someone who comes into an area, hacking away at trees, and leaving their human excrement everywhere-that someone feels like they can’t say to them, “Stop that shit!”

The boat landing being a public place, these people take public drunkenness to all-time-highs. It is scaring away the sober people who legitimately want to be there and fish from the bank without the molestation, or view of soap opera-type shenanigans.

It was getting late and I decided to leave everyone there.

Today, I decided to go back and read my book some more-to get myself out of the house. I figured the drunks would be gone. I took a rake and some trash bags. I drove down there and parked.

This man that lives down the road said to me, “It is a damn shame that you have to come down here and clean up someone else’s nasty mess. They cut that shade tree down Sunday after moving their campsite three times.”

Undoubtedly, I am not the only local that gets pissed off with people ransacking the public boat ramp. He told me he’d been there on and off over the weekend and it was the drunks in the blue tent.

I walked over there and asked them who cut the tree down. Three drunk birds chirped, "Not me!" The local man said he saw them do it.

A tree doesn’t seem so important. This tree was a young tree that stood on the bank of the water to shade you so you didn’t stand in the sun. These douches “allegedly” cut it down to hopefully burn their trash so they wouldn’t have to take it home. The drunken trio was already in the shade, swaying in a hammock tied on the river between two trees. I felt justified in not telling them about the alligators that creep in that stagnant water.

I asked them if they had trash bags and told them I would give them some if they would pick up their trash. They took them. The diabetic drunk woman followed me around constantly asking me who I worked for. She followed me so much I got her to help me pick up the trash. She told me that she had a court date for public drunkenness.

I laughed and asked her, “You didn’t go? Aren’t you going to get in trouble?”

She was a sweet, clueless little drunk woman and said, “No, I put it off for another day to come down here.”

I replied, “You do know this is a public boat landing. You don’t want to get yourself in more of a situation over a drink.”

She just kept talking and picking up trash. I said nothing. We finally got to this box that was filled with individual grocery bags filled with human excrement. Oh, the cherry on the cake!

She ran from the box and I laughed. I bent over laughing watching her run away from this box. I told her to leave it and someone else could come pick that up. By the time I got finished, we had a truck load of trash that I drove to the recycling center. I gave her some more trash bags and told her I had to be off and to enjoy her day.

When you think about all the sober people going in and out of there with fancy boats to enjoy the public boat landing it is funny how a drunken little old lady was the only one helping me pick up the trash. Shakes head.

Everyone wants to enjoy the bounty of what Nature has to offer but don’t ask them to clean their crap-left-behind up. You also have those people that literally take a dump on Nature and leave the grocery bag behind. Somehow, I don’t think that is a form of recycling? Or is it?

Written by: Angelia Y Larrimore

The Doomed Buck

Remember this: No good deed goes unpunished.

This story is an example of why well-meaning people, or ego-centric people wanting to be special, should not make wild animals pets. Transport the animal to a professional wildlife rehabilitation. Do not tame it.

I wanted to cook some chili. I went to the store but forgot it was closed on Sunday. On the way home, I saw this small buck, with crooked, velvet antlers on the side of the road. It was about 36 inches tall at the head, with two 6 inch pronged horns. The weight was around 45#. We call this a 45# suki.

I was worried the little buck would run out in front of my truck, so I was creeping along. One time before, a ten-point buck charged my car and jumped into the passenger window, so I try to avoid a repeat of this misadventure. I couldn’t see the deer behind me, but saw an on-coming black SUV, then pulled off onto this dirt road to lead the buck off the highway. It was chasing the truck like a dog. This is not normal deer behavior.

Here were two situations: I could hit the deer with my truck or watch as someone else hit the deer. Either vehicle could have suffered damage, if not harm to the drivers and the deer.

The little buck followed the truck off and up the dirt road. I got out making sure it was gone, but it wasn’t. I tried to run the little buck into the woods, but it wouldn’t go. Finally, it walked up to me and started licking my hand. This is not wild deer behavior.

There were marks on the little buck’s coat that looked familiar. I would later realize someone could have shaved it and the marks were from chipper blades, probably a No. 30 or No. 40 surgical blade. The deer was just getting hair growth back. Because of this, it was a possibility the animal was shaved to be kept inside of a house because of shedding issues. I ruled out the thought it might be poor diet and hair loss. The squares of missing hair throughout the body were too surgically perfect. It is the end of August, so it should be going toward a winter coat.

There was a man that lived down the road. I returned some of his beagle dogs that ended up behind my house. The little buck followed his car home, tried to get up on his porch, and enter his house. This upset the man greatly, who was a deer hunter, but he didn’t want anything to happen to the little buck. It wasn’t his. It wasn’t mine. I asked him did he want me to call the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources. He agreed, but that was a mistake.

The field agent reported the little buck would most likely be euthanized. He was going to check with the wildlife biologist to determine the protocol for handling the situation. I wasn't surprised or maddened by this news. It was expected. Hunting season is almost upon us here in this state. I told the field agent the man felt responsible for the deer because it was in his yard. He didn’t want anyone to report him for owning a wild animal. I don’t blame him. I told the man not to feed it, maybe it would wander off in the night. I left.

To me, without proof other than the clipping of the hair and the easy approach, clinging to humans, and no outward presentation of disease, the deer was tame.

The problem with this little buck was, unless it went back into a pen, the animal was doomed. Someone had doomed this animal. It could die by bullet or arrow on a corn pile, be hit by a car, catch a disease from wild stock, pulled down by dogs, or die by misadventure due to not knowing how to be a wild deer, unless he goes into a wild group to follow by example.

The DNR officer reported there was no way to transport the animal. I told him, even if he did there was no guarantee the animal wouldn’t migrate back out to residential areas. If someone would have come, I had a way to transport it to the wildlife managed area with the officer’s presence.

The other problem the people who take wildlife and tame them cause is: introducing strangers to situations they otherwise would avoid, to be pulled into legalities, not of their making. This could be happening upon a problem but when the law comes, somehow you are considered the guilty party.

I did some investigating. I can not prove any one individual but it was not a surprise to find people doing taming practices with deer.

I found a video of a local woman feeding penned deer, with her mouth, on social media. The page was public and I was sure the Department of Natural Resources knew about these people. I assumed their papers were in order due to public content. Could the little buck have escaped or come from there? I don’t know. There is also the possibility it was someone else not found on social media. This is the boonies after all.

I wondered why the little buck tried to stick his muzzle in my face when I squatted down. This is not normal wild deer behavior. This deer had gotten use to a person doing a certain repetitive act for it to learn such a thing.

This poses another problem: A tame, penned deer being released or escaping into a wild population. What if, two weeks from the time I visualized this buck, it wandered off into a wild population and broke with a disease? It was possibly pen born or found then raised in a pen or house, with low immunity to the outside world and its germs.

This is an issue you find in farmed deer when they escape but are re-penned. The animal would have to be quarantined for a certain amount of time because of the potential of passing disease, if the animal came into contact with a carrier in wild stock.

This situation brings up the problem of the animal causing damage to a motorist because it doesn’t know not to chase cars like a dog. The person who hand-fed and raised the animal from a baby, is out-of-sight, out-of-mind and will not be held financially or morally responsible for a deer that either escape their care or they turned loose. The motorist will be eating the damage bill, which is not fair.

The homeowner and I were frustrated, not because we couldn’t hunt the animal, but because someone had taken something innate from the animal, and left it in the condition of no more than a child, not knowing any better. It was the makings of a sitting duck, bearing a gigantic target over its head, in rain cloud fashion.

I hope if it were someone taming deer like that, they stop or do not do it again. It is harmful to the animal’s well-being and existence.

Blame it on my inner Greek. I could only feel pity for its plight.

In closing, it is the ideas, strangers bear the burden of conscience to protect something that doesn’t know it is doomed, because of learned behavior from a human being, who is released of the little buck’s fate. A little buck that could have grown in the wild, given a chance to thrive, passed on his genes, and run free many years, instead of its life cut short. 

Written by: Angelia Y Larrimore

Unknown Culprit and their Cotton Balls of Yuck

Remember this: Pay attention to everything. Don't touch that tainted cotton ball. It could be covered with something you don't want.

I ran amuck on a Wildlife Managed area for a couple of hours. I was bored. I asked the dog did she want to go for a ride. We clamored up in the vehicle and mozied on down to the river. After seeing many a thing, I drove home while the dog slept. Figures...

I decided to cut the grass in the woods. I care for this small acreage, which has turned into a rather nice habitat. It has a water source and lots of plants. There is millet and other plants there for the wild birds, quail, and deer. I clean the paths and make soft edges. I provide bird houses in the form of gourds, sugar boards, and whatever else I can put out. Sometimes, I see this one turkey that skulks around on his stomach like Count Turkula. That is the only turkey I have ever seen that will stalk the person instead of you stalking him.

I will say, I was ecstatic that I observed some bobwhite quail tooling around down there. Big win because you don't see them often.

On my way down to the woods, I was looking at the high grass on the edge of the horse pasture (see above photo), which is now filled with drying corn stalks. I looked over and saw some cotton balls pinned to the grass. I thought, “What is this now? It is not even September. Someone is already doing naughty stuff.” Looked like a case of trespassing and questionable behavior.

I called my dad. He didn't know anything about it. I broke one off without touching the pen. It looked like someone put something yellow on it, even though it was out in rain. There was no smell either. I have no idea how long it has been there. From the stain, maybe a week. It kind of grossed me out that it might be human body fluids, but I hoped it was something else.

I guess someone is either baiting deer to come to that corner of the fence now, or it is something to run them off. Everything is dry as a bone. There is no gardens in the area. There is soybeans, but the deer can walk out from anywhere to eat them. I can't imagine why Unknown Culprit would be putting cotton balls in my dad's field. The neighbor was watching me. I proceeded to cut the grass.

Last deer season, I did not hunt. I watched everyone else to see what was going on. I know what the culprits are doing. I am going to have to walk around looking for cotton balls or tampons around this property that has been laced with God knows what.

Now that I have clothes pins, I should have them fingerprinted.

People are just spiteful and bored these days. Go cook some bacon, Man, if you want to make bad-good choices. Watch Days of Our Lives if you want drama. 

Here I am working on a habitat for things to live in and some evil person is trying to undermine my endeavor. I shake my head at this. When I consider the world at large these days, I am not surprised. 

It is July and August will be next month. Now would be a good time to do deer stand maintenance. You might would also start looking around to see if someone is doing things on your property they shouldn't. If someone is baiting deer in July, they have a serious problem. Where is the game warden when you need one.

I guess it is time someone goes to jail....can't say I didn't warn them.

Written by: Angelia Y Larrimore, Grossed Out by Yucky Cotton Balls.

Boat Ramp Shenanigans with Space Chimp.

Remember this: Poke a measuring stick in it. That hole might be deep.

Yesterday, my son and I went to a boat landing way in the woods on a WMA area. We weighed ourselves before setting out. Humans do not learn anything valuable unless through intrepidity and caprice.

My God, I could have been on the internet looking at naked men, fighting faceless strangers, and looking at mindless crap. But no...I was out in the world.

The state has been under drought watch. The water was low and the road was driveable two days ago. Going in we saw one turkey, then a second. I told my son, “Wait for the third. That will be a show.” The third time we saw turkey there was a herd of about thirteen standing on the sandy road sides, wings a flapping, then strolled nonchalantly in the woods. This was the point I realized the road scraper had loosened the dirt up too much. The boat and truck was at risk to getting stuck. I put her in a different gear and drove on through. We got down to the boat landing after the scenic drive.

The reason I am writing this is for newbie people or anyone that hasn't gotten the details of going off as unseasoned people. This can include people that lack a mentor or just another person. Think before you act. At the very least try to avoid a metaphoric tar pit of nature.

We got the boat down to the landing. There was one truck and it was parked in such a way as to block anyone pulling out. I walked down to the river's edge. The water was low. There was nothing in the water to indicate the end of the boat ramp or the depth of the bottom a ways out. The boat ramp is actually a big canal shoot with disappearing gravel road. Just looking at the water, you can't tell if you back the trailer and boat out, if the trailer is going to fall into a hole you can't see.

I backed the truck up. After the boat came off my rear driver's side wheel found that one place and slide off of what looked to be a traction panel. I had one job and failed. No need spinning wheels in the mud and getting nowhere. You have to learn when to stop. If you don't stop, you make it worse.

It appears someone stuck a piece of pig panel down in the water. I was stuck. I keep finding myself stuck. Yet, if it weren't for me being stuck I wouldn't get great ideas for this blog posts. Other people with their squinty eyes tell me, “You are stuck.” I think it should be an Olympic sport. I would be devastatingly good at it; an unpaid life's career.

Before I left my father told me if I got bogged down to call him. He knew where I was going. Being my dad's child, I trust him. I fell prey to one of my dad's booby traps meant for would-be thieves.

I swamped the boat as well.

Never let it be said that there is nothing man can build that women can't tear apart. Yet on the positive side, we build just as much. It's the weird balance scale of the universe. You never know when it will strike with its shits and giggles. My father and the Universe were having a laugh-fest on me.

My son and I pulled the boat up on the bank. We figured out what he had done. While waiting I noticed a white and black bird flying over the area. It was a swallow-tailed kite. I could hear babies squawking somewhere close by but couldn't visualize the nest. If you see these birds please report a siting. It is an endangered species and of the highest conservation concern. The swallow-tailed kite winters in Brazil. You can call or go to The Avian Conservation Center and The Center for Birds of Prey (1-843-971-7474) websites to report sightings.

On to the debacle.

My father shows up unable to talk. He is humored by my state of affairs. My son was not amused. I thought I was going to die.

We pulled the truck and trailer out. It wasn't that bad. It was just off the track in a soft spot. It could happen to anyone at this ramp.

We pulled the boat up. Fixed it and used the bilge pump to get the excess water out. This was the second time I took this boat out. My dad had just purchased it and kept nudging me to take it out. I thought this odd behavior. I should have known. Send the test chimp to see if she can make it to outer space or watch her spaceship blow up and fall from the sky.

The first time I took this boat out I turned around because the gas line would not stay in the motor. I didn't think it prudent to spew gas into the river, strand myself or anyone with me. I am here not to put the fear of going outdoors in a person. I would rather have them enjoy life. Sometimes invisible and human gremlins decide they do what they want at your expense. Their evil plans know no bounds.

I looked at my dad and said, “Daddy, I don't think this is meant to be.” He didn't look at me and said, “Yes it is.” He might have realized to some degree this was a discouraging situation. He was never one for worry over my feelings. I traded the hitches off the two vehicles. He drove in a truck with 4WD and left it with me. My dad goes back and test drives this boat down the river, leaving it running. I was dubious. My son and I got in the boat then drove off. My dad left. I drove off with the boat. I liked it actually. It maneuvered easily. I could sit up in a seat. I can tell you when you drive your first car you are worried about wrecking into someone. When you drive your first boat on open water with no problems, it just feels awesome.

I looked down at the water. It had debris in it and looked nasty.

We went a ways but then I felt the boat motor kick. My son wanted to know if we hit something. I told him it was either air or water in the line. After the second or third bump, I just got this feeling to turn around because we were heading for this lake. I thought to myself, “There is no way I am stranding my baby and me on this river this day.” I made a U-turn right in the middle of the river and went straight back to the dock. There is no need in letting stupidity overrun common-sense. I got back to the boat ramp. The motor dies. Not to be deterred, I plopped the trolling motor in the water and thought Land Ho. Always have paddles or a back-up.

The problem with driving someone else's used purchase is there is a reason someone sold it. I figured out all the quirks in that boat but I am sure there will be more to come. It is better to do a test run with equipment without unknowing individuals aboard, instead of getting people out on a river then scaring them half to death. I can imagine if this were someone who had never been acclimated to river life. Probably would have shit their pants. If you are not somewhat concerned for yours or others safety and plight....you have a serious problem.

The boat would not crank. I didn't call my dad back either. I backed the Cherokee with the trailer down the slew to the river to float the boat up to hook it then cranked the boat up enough to pull it out the water without busting the motor. The boat motor wouldn't tilt. I wanted to (RAWR!) and gnaw on something, I tell you. I laugh now.

I drove up to a hill and used gravity to slide the boat up to the top where the crank handle was. Once we anchored it down, my son drove us out. He looks at me and says, “Mom, we go camping in a couple of weeks. It will be better. This was one hiccup.”

We got back to the house and weighed ourselves. Everything I do with my son is to teach him something. I told him if you wanted to lose some pounds go down to that particular river and just sit or walk around. He lost 4 pounds in less than 2 hours. I lost 6 pounds. We were constantly drinking water.

I have a reason for writing this. Prior to this, I had talked to several old timers or seasoned boat landing people. There was a pivotal theme traveling through these conversation. That theme was the avoidance of utilizing boat ramps in the area I am from and local areas. I traveled around to look at the landings. Some are great, some hellish.

I learned from working with the public that consumers will avoid bad service and places that provide dreadful experiences.

This is the growing case with some boat landings, their ramps, and engineering. The complaint on ramps were: the steepness of the ramp itself, low-maintenance or upkeep to the ramps, especially out of the way boat ramps. There was a complaint of visualization of where the ramp ended or erosion maintenance at the water's edge to keep boaters from bogging or sliding in. Also the lack of traction in a wide enough area at the mouth of the boat ramp. Some landings have a floating dock where others have nothing but a dirt hill. This doesn't provide a place to tie the boat. I got this from people on the river all the time. These outdoors people are being blocked by the thought of the boat landings being unsafe in some way as to warrant avoidance. There is the issue of once questioned by officials, the landing users will declare no problem. No one wants to be seen as ungrateful or a complainer. Wait until some gets hurt then everyone is bad mouthing the area.                                                                      

You begin to understand why some people die right at the ramp. They are in the water or struggling with the boat somehow. If you lost fluids at the rate my son and I did, compounded with some physical problem you are not aware of, I could see how someone could die. One landing near me is notorious for people dying. It is a steep drop off into the water you can't see. Back a boat up, walk in the water around the motor after you pull it out some and in the drink you go, sucked down. You don't know where the edge is. The person assumes it is naturally there. It could easily happen when you think beyond yourself.

One ramp I went to looks like a ledge when you stand at the top even though from the side it is a gradual incline. Most people do not own a Dualie trucks or a 4 X 4 to pull a trailer. They have little small or mid-size vehicles with questionable brakes and motors two steps from fried. They go fishing to enjoy themselves and get food. I could see where fishermen would be afraid of watching their truck roll back into the river. Some smart person would say, “Don't go down there then.” Yet the landing is there for everyone. There was a section on the other side of the river that was lower.  A decent ramp could have been built there. It would be great if the water were high, but most people do not go when the water is high.

The ramp itself is an obstacle to the river and enjoyment when no appropriate. I wonder if landings are reassessed?

When going to a landing, tell someone where you are going. You might need to send out an S.O.S. If you have no one, become acquainted with the DNR and who to call, if in trouble. Get out your truck and walk down to look at the ramp. Look for hazards. If you find some report them. If it looks shady, don't go in. Go on the premise: out of sight, out of mind. Take electrolytes and water. You don't want to get dehydrated. When in doubt, turn around. Have a back-up. Check your boat with a mental checklist. Someone might have done something to it. On the trip in, something might have become ajar or loose. Talk to people and find out what the potential problems are you might be facing or unaware of. It is worth the oxygen to ask.

I could go on.

Read other people's experience and learn from it. It could happen to you. Just because things go wrong doesn't mean you have to give up your plans to enjoy yourself or experience something new. There are always obstacles that get in the way. It is your job as a human being to use your brain and heart to dodge or make the best of things to get over a hump. There might be a reason for this. You might be laboring under some plight for the sake of someone you don't know who will benefit. Take classes provided by the local DNR or other organizations. Every little bit of experience helps. You might even save a life. You never know.

Go forth River Noob and be awesome.

Written by: Angelia Y Larrimore, the Undaunted.

A Better Informed Female Hunter

Remember this: Everyone has to start somewhere; encouraged or not.

Recently I have been scheming to hunt outside of my state. Hunting within your state is where you cut your teeth. From there you have to branch out.

Of course the reality of this would be casting myself out into the world alone, which is a scary thing to do. Eventually this gypsy-like quality strikes all people for them to migrate and see new places for the excitment, awe, and alas vacationer fatigue (when you go, then come back more tired than what you were when you left).

While entertaining this idea of out-of-state hunting I was plotting to hunt turkey nearby on this tract of land that belonged to the DNR, but being familiar with the property over time, had some questions before I set out to beat the bush. I referred to the rules and regulations book; no answer. This tract of land was fifty miles off the coast in a swampy area.

My questions were on unmarked lanes with gates that were at times locked. Seemed simple enough to answer.

Called up the game warden. Not a nice chap; didn't answer my question. He admitted to me lack of knowledge on his part about the area. Belligerently referring to the rules and regulations book, which did not cover this particular question. Sadly I had to raise my voice which I don't like to do. He made me feel like I was not welcome to go to that place or I was pestering him when he had more important things to do. The most useful thing I got out of him was the problem of bogging down so some of the lanes with locked gates could only be walked down. It would seem previous hunters or woodsy people just tore up the roads. It was the Blood Moon. Maybe he was on his manstruation? (Love you guy!)  I wondered why he didn't take my name and get back to me. Moving on.

What does one do when the game warden is of no help and the possiblity that you could run amuck of the law exist? I stewed then got an idea. I considered people that were new to the sport without a clue. One must get a clue after all.

When a person starts out hunting, fishing, camping, or even hiking there are rules and regulations that you must abide by while utilizing property. If you do not understand or know these regulations and rules could mean a ticket, fine, or jail time. God forbide losing your hunting license for the rest of your life.

If I were to go to this area, get myself in trouble, the game warden is not going to care, then will most likely antagonize me for whatever crime I commited by making me feel stupid; giving me a ticket anyway. I refer back to my conversation with the game warden when saying, "I don't want to go to this area then commit a crime by happenstance and have the game warden say to me, "Ignorance is no excuse" when I am calling you with questions. Made sense to me. I will tell you I love the SCDNR but sometimes it is the individual attitudes within this department that make life problematic.

Sometimes you can't let off-putting people stop you. I can admit there have been up to three different people excluding the game warden that I have asked to clarify or go down to this tract with me so I won't get in trouble. All they do is walk away or ignore you.

Here is what I did. I knew of a retired game warden that lived close by and called him. I explained to him what I was attempting to do. He took 45 minutes of his personal time out to explain to me about the tract of land. After this conversation I felt more empowered to go by myself and sit under a tree to do my business.

I had paid for my license last year for this particular tract that didn't need tagging or special permits. Always thinking of safety, if I were to go inside this place by myself then someone would have to know. I went over to the local DNR office to pick up maps for each game zone. I looked them over. Unfortunately there were no detailed maps of the specific area. What was a girl to do?

I googled Earth. For every one of those little lanes or entry ways, I followed the white line to see exactly where it ended. Most of them looped back to the main road so I was comfortable with the fact I could get back out. I did note the swampy areas where it would not be easily accessed. I then thought I would go down and make my own map with numbers and where it ended so when I went back I could mark the places where I hunted, water holes, game that appeared, general direction of tracks and time of day among other things. As we know some animals do not go back to the same place twice or travel the same path. Overall this endeavor was to pinpoint my location to family members if I were not to come back so it would be easier to find the body. There is the old saying, "Gone and let the hogs eat you". Gone being the southern sounding word in exasperation for "Go on". I could be eaten by wild hogs; it happens.

This is why sometimes you have to consider the way people get into hunting or fishing. Someone else takes them and minus the license probably do not feel responsible for the knowledge because they are temporarily there for the pleasure of the activity.

If you go by yourself it is rather different. As a hunter you have to put some semblance of thought and planning into your trip or else come up empty handed or worse yet in disaster. Your success depends on your knowledge and not someone elses unless you are gathering it from the source that dictates the legal parameters of whatever it is you are doing. I negate guided hunts in this piece because you are still relying on another person for your success.

I know there is a lot of online chatter about how close people are that hunt but when  you are considered the outsider in circles or just starting out while not knowing anyone it can be hard. To some extend it is who you know. You don't know anyone; it gets harder. You might approach people that turn their nose up at you, do not want you to know their hunting spot, or consider you a joke because they don't think you have "the look" or "attitude". Unfortunately for me I don't have "the look" but my attitude I wonder at sometimes. I don't wear camo all the time, sleep in it, cover my truck in it, or whatever else people do with camo. I don't look the part which confuses people. Usually I wear a red plaid shirt, blue jeans and snake boots. Half of the time there are memes that have make-no-sense messages that drive me crazy. Hence, keeping my inflammatory writings relegated to my blogosphere.

When you are a female hunter starting out, as magazines and other people that hunt are tooting their horns while neglecting to educate these women on the details of what life is going to be like, may find moments where things are just unclear or you are going it alone.  A lot of this information you can get from online or at the local Department of Natural Resources. It is always a good idea to check with these departments because when land tracts are exchanged they could have changing legislation, logging companies could be on or off the properties, there might be existing private property within the tract, and  the reality of changing conditions. Moreso what you can, can not do and telling someone when and where you are going, then coming back at what time. You have to consider cell phone reception in case you break a leg, bog down, shoot yourself, or pass out. Some hunters go down in the woods to have a heart attack then where will you be?

There is nothing wrong with asking for help. If whoever doesn't want to help you find someone with character that will. There is always a way, might take you a while to get there, or find a friend or two to get your back, but keep trying and doing. Eventually it will come and they will find out they found a diamond and not a piece of coal; when coal was all that surrounded them.

P.S. So going to get a ticket from the DNR.

Written by: W Harley Bloodworth
                  
 

~Courtesy of the AOFH~



Running The Numbers: How Do We Know When We Overhunt?

Remember this: People tend to eat all the gummy bears out of a bag.

As I have said in previous posts: Lets take a closer inspection of this...........
Once again this website is a tool to get people to think a little deeper about the sport of hunting, habitats, wildlife, and hunter behaviour.
I have since read a book from the 1700-1800's. In this book which I can not recall the name was a description of South Carolina before Lord Ashley's immigrants moved in. I read that one group came to South Carolina and the comment was the 'sky was darkened by turkey in such a number to astound a man'. Not exact words but I remembered this phaseology because I was curious to the fact that there were that many turkey. I wanted to live back then even if dysentary was the conversation of the day.
That's dedication. Can you imagine though hunting in a time where there was more game than you could shake your stick at? As I reflect on this passage from a book from my memory I thought upon the turkey herd near me. There is probably about 20 in number that I know of because the herd collects in March through May to breed and nest. Twenty turkey are not enough to darken the sky. Maybe over one of my eyes on a cloudy day?
Usually when I am alone with my time out afield hunting I have the clearest mind and great thought on conundrums that sometimes do not seem so obvious to others. Not that it makes me special but when you live in a time where social media has covered every known topic getting a different slant on things is like finding gold or a coal encrusted diamond.
My world of hunting is very small but my oberservations are big. I don't choose to be a world traveling hunter because of the bad impressions that other hunters having pursued that endeavor have afflicted me with but that is for a later topic.
As one can see the above is a very beautifully well mounted Mountain Goat. When reflecting on the internet and the menagerie of trophy photos (which are endless) how do we as hunter know when we are acutally overhunting? Where do we go to for that knowledge and is it really correct or false security? If it is evident by what we as hunters observe on our outdoor excursions would it not be a relevant topic to address based on observations afield?
I, as a woman who hunts and a woodswoman, feel at times I am undervalued for my perspective, my observations, my opinions, and feedback but yet I feel compelled for the greater good of wild game, the enjoyment of hunters of all genders, and the general state of ecosystmes and habitat to stick my finger in the murky water of this quest and stir vigorously.
On occasion I have been told to say nothing that would make hunting look bad but with a conscious about the broad health of hunting how can I sit in silence and not say a word? Would it be more valueable if it came from a man or maybe more believeable if I were a hunting show personality with the backing of a big sports channel?
I say chuck it. I am putting it out there for the universe to deliver unto the masses regardless of who steals it or passes it on. The greater good I say.
The reason that I asked myself this question this evening was because of deer and birds. Mostly birds.
I can remember back in the 90's I could drive down the road to my house and there would be coveys of quail bursting from the bush to fly elsewhere. Since th 90's I have only seen one quail and it was a pharoah quail.  Over 22 years I have only seen that one. I have travelled other places and no quail insight not even on the land managed areas of the DNR. Very troubling to me especially when there are governmental agencies that disperse funds to land owners to grow habitat for non-existant birds.
South Carolina was known for quail hunting. Since the introduction of wasteful fox pens that are eventually used as coyote pens to train dogs and spread disease, domesticated animals such as dogs and cats, other competitive wildlife, the quail have as the old phrase states "gone to the birds".
Even if you have a quail population the domesticated or wild animals eat the eggs.
Quail are known as the "Prince of Game Birds" but their slow decline in the state of South Carolina makes them look like the pauper.  I googled, back in 2007 the DNR accomodated 1100 people but in 2011 they would only accomodate 35 people because there was no interest in the quail seminars they were hosting.
As a link to check just for my state I researched the Quail Forever website on the outdoorhub.com page: Click this link after reading my full commentary.

 http://www.outdoorhub.com/news/2012-quail-nesting-habitat-conditions-report/

Even looking up your state it will give you the general conditions on quail nesting habitats because if the eggs can't survive to hatch you will have no quail.  If quail have their breeding season with accompanying conditions that would be tuff on the hunter getting his birds. I noticed the key word at the beginning of the commentary was 'hope' which basically points out the helplessness of any control of the outcome of quail hatchling survival.

Just for my state this was what the Quail Forever posted:
"South Carolina’s virtual lack of a 2011 winter, combined with moderate harvest levels, has resulted in high quail carryover on managed properties, reports Billy Dukes, Small Game Project Supervisor for the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources. One of the mildest winters on record resulted in an early nesting season for many bird species, including quail. These early hatches will help to spread out an already protracted nesting season and may lead to greater instances of re-nesting. South Carolina’s spring was essentially normal, with a few timely rains that improved growing conditions. That said, all counties except Barnwell are now in drought status, which will likely decrease hatchability of nests and lower chick survival.
Since South Carolina added counties to those eligible for the state’s CRP SAFE practice, acreage has increased from less than 100 acres to more than 1,000 acres. South Carolina’s SAFE practice is essentially a short-term set aside program in which landowners are allowed to convert whole crop fields to native warm season grasses and forbs for the duration of their contract."

As a point this is what I am talking about.
I looked in the SC Market Bulletin. This is a newspaper put out by the state to sale things statewide. I looked under Poultry to find ads for Bobwhite quail. This is the prices for quail hatchlings:
1 w/o $0.55; 8 w/o $2; 10 w/o $2.50; 12 w/o $3.00 then there was another ad for eggs.
If one was interested in Pharoah quail they run $0.50-$2.50 for 50 eggs so there is not much different in price for Bobwhite quail.
Don't even get me started on Pheasants.
At this price I could see it worth making an initative to raise and return Bobwhite quail populations back to the fields but where is the interest from hunters? Or the population at large that wants to conserve, conserve, conserve?
Yes you can increase acreage, get land owners to allocate tracts for habitat but its useless if there are no quail. Why do they not let the land owner raise the quail as close to wild as possible then turn them free? As a rule to help quail be less stressed from hunting do not have a hunting season for X amount of time. This would be followed by research for the number in the populations to see if it works? I haven't delved down into this dark hole yet but I am sure it would be interesting. If only other hunters would question this same thing.

I walked afield one morning hunting for dove. Doves are known to stay in the woods in the evening to breed but come out to eat hard in the morning. I only saw five dove sitting on a powerline. You can't shoot at them on the power line. Only five I saw and none in a freshly combined cornfield. I was pretty put out not because I couldn't shoot anything but because there was no dove population other than five renegade birds. I stood with my gun as a V of Canadian Goose flew over. At that point I didn't even want to shoot at them.
On the other hand I noticed as the weather got cooler here and tossing out black sunflower seeds in the woods, I had about 20 lite down by the stand I was in to eat and drink.  Of course I like that sound they make when they take off like a torpedo.
I also noticed this with wood duck in my habitat area. For five consecutive hunting season I have herd the blast of guns behind the area I hunt but each year its less and less because the hunters aren't really concerned with skipping that area for a hunting season for life to take its toll but have decimated it to no duck. They shot all of the duck out that area. The last season I heard the guns there was whooping and hollering back there clear through the woods. I feel that was disregard for replenishment. Here I am building a habitat and a breeding ground. There they are tearing it all down around me to nothing.  Usually duck come when its cold but the weather is too warm. If you as a hunter observe the change in the weather you will realize the conditions in the past were more conducive to migrations of waterfowl but as the weather has become indifferent to its past the migratory birds do not move to areas they use to visit. Breeding grounds are becoming desolate gameless areas.
On to the topic of online trophy photos as a working model or example. I was scrolling down a feed on a social site I peruse. Every post on that stream was a dead animal with a hunter smiling away. That part didn't bother me but when I started to count the different species up and realized they were no longer in the number of live specimens I became concerned. If you are a hunter with trophy photos sit down with pencil and pen then do a hash mark for the number of each different animals type and do a count by the end of your time on social media that night. Think about that and do it for a week.
My question here was how does anyone know exactly how many of these animals are killed in a season if there is no system for turning them in? I know there are tagging systems for the 'ones that count' but what about the game that are killed by hunters anonymously on a Saturday evening but go un-noted while hanging outside at the barn?
I can go into the woods and shoot five deer but never tell a soul that I did it.  How do these five deer figure into the population count the DNR reports as a flourishing deer population for the year of xxxx. I could take out a herd and no one would know. If that is the case what effect would that have on a deer population and its report on the yearly report?
I have heard farmers brag about shooting deer off their farm land when really they are only allowed to shoot over the head and scare away. The unfortunate thing about this was the farmer just let the body lay without getting the meat so it was a waste of life. When hunting season comes the deer have been long since killed and gone. It takes some time for new deer to migrate in. Sometimes the deer migrate in because of lack of habitat elsewhere or the pressures of over and unscruplous hunting.
This year I have observed very disturbing things on behalf of hunters. I have seen a drive hunt based off a public paved road around a community of house where they weren't concerned in what direction they were shooting. I have seen hunters try and chase the deer out the woods with an ATV. I have found bodies in the woods where the horns only were sawed off and the intact skeleton lay in the oak leaves.
This is my concern and it should be others. Its different when its publically managed lands but what about the individual with the responsibility for managing his own corner of the world or his behaviour?
I have observed a lot of hunters that talk about and bemoan the fact they are 'conserving' but are they really? Do hunters really dig down deep for the information to follow a sound personal stream of thought on the very sport they profess to love?
How far as my initial question of knowing when we over hunt I feel that the hunting community only relies on the governmental agencies that post the report for game population numbers but really could be taking note of what they observe in the field.
If a hunter notices something afield that he could report it would be more eyes on the ground to help those agencies that are left to be responsible for collecting the data and information for public consumption.
My hope is that instead of the sport of hunting being about the photo-op or the gross arrogance of those that profess they are doing good for hunting  be diverted at least by those that are more concerned with the infrastructure of hunting, habitats, and the wild game replenishment when management only maintains a number in populations that is barely doable for hunting.
As hunters and huntresses we should be better informed on what effects the lives of game animals. If we do not have adequate game animal numbers we have nothing to hunt.

Written by and photography: W Harley Bloodworth

~ Courtesy of the AOFH~